


You Are Good

by WholesomeTrash



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Blood and Injury, Child Abandonment, Child Frisk (Undertale), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gender-Neutral Frisk (Undertale), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Platonic Relationships, Underfell Sans (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27010684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WholesomeTrash/pseuds/WholesomeTrash
Summary: Frisk shows up at the font brother’s house cold, wet, and with a bloody arm inflicted by Undyne’s spear. Sans doesn’t consider himself one of the most morally good monsters, but he can’t just leave the kid out there, can he?
Relationships: Frisk & Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 103





	1. A Good Person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans rescues Frisk from an untimely end in the snow.

How did he ever get into this mess? 

Here he was, a big bad skeletal monster with a terrible attitude and questionable morality, staring down blankly at the big, quivering doe eyes of a human child right outside his door. Their name was Frisk, if he was remembering correctly. The latest sacrifice bound to die at the hands of the malevolent king Asgore. 

And if he wasn’t mistaken, they also _weren’t supposed to be here_. Hadn’t they already passed through Snowdin _hours_ ago? Papyrus certainly would’ve told him if the thing had decided to stick around. Or maybe he wouldn’t. It was hard to tell with Papyrus. Sans still couldn’t wrap his head around why his brother had let the brat loose instead of taking them to Undyne. 

And now here they were, shaking head to toe in their snow sodden clothes and clutching a blood stained sleeve to their chest. He would’ve laughed at the sight if it wasn’t so damn pitiful. The introduction to the Royal Guard leader must’ve gone well, huh? What a shame they hadn’t just died at the end of her spear. There was no use in dragging things out. They were going to die anyway. 

Still, Sans wasn’t interested in killing them himself. He was far too lazy, and preferred to stick a middle finger out to the king rather than ever help him. He was a lousy ruler, and an even lousier _monster_. 

Frisk shivered almost violently when a particularly harsh wind washed over them, sniffing a line of snot back up into their frost bitten nose. It seemed even the weather had it out for them. Instead of standing there dumbly for another minute, Sans grabbed the kid by the arm and dragged them inside, slamming the door shut and successfully locking the cold out. Now was _not_ the time for a bunch of snow to come flooding into his house. A snowstorm was coming. 

The brat winced at the sudden contact, but didn’t pull away. Their arm went limp in his grasp, stubby fingers clenched in a purple fist. Sans had to wonder how long they’d been out there. They looked ready to collapse. 

_Oh_. Oh shit, they _were_ collapsing. 

He quickly hooked both hands under their armpits before their head could meet the cold wood floor, hoisting them up effortlessly. The kid buried their head in his chest, draping their arms over his shoulders and clinging to him like some touch-starved monkey. Sans rolled his eyes, feeling the wetness from their hair and sweater seeping into his red coat. 

He wasn’t exactly sure why he was helping the poor excuse of a being. He guessed it was better than slamming the door on them and leaving them to fend for themselves. He wasn’t completely heartless. 

_Yet_. 

He headed towards the bathroom Papyrus recently installed, though he had no clue what for. All they had in there was a bath and sink; he assumed it was just because his brother enjoyed taking showers. Skeletons had no hygienic needs. Filling the tub with hot water while holding a clingy child was harder than expected, but he managed. Soon the whole room was steamy and warm, making Frisk sigh deeply in contentment. 

There was still the problem of their wet clothes, however. 

“ **I’m gonna set you down and you better not fall, brat. I won’t catch you this time** ,” he warned. He lied about that last part, of course. Frisk nodded against his shoulder, and he gently laid them on their feet, watching amusedly as they wobbled side to side. Their brown eyes were dull and tired, and they let out a big yawn. 

“ **I’m sure you can undress yourself, right?** ” He asked, invisible eyebrow raised. The tyke managed to take off their shoes, socks, pants, and underwear, but when it came to their shirt, they couldn’t quite figure out how to get it over their head. After laughing to himself for a good minute, they finally gave a huff of frustration and relented.

Luckily, Sans offered them some mercy and stopped snickering. 

“ **Arms up** ,” he instructed, to which they immediately obeyed, eyeing the warm bath hungrily. He peeled off their soaked striped sweater carefully as to not agitate the wound on their right arm, and tossed it away to be washed later; then generously helped them into the water, plopping them down with a shallow splash. 

Frisk cringed when their gash started stinging, but the pain was almost instantly replaced with the relaxing of their muscles, all unwinding after enduring the bad Snowdin climate. They submerged themselves down to their shoulders and closed their eyes, feeling their stiff fingers and toes wiggle happily. 

The peaceful moment didn’t last long though, because a giant cup of liquid was suddenly spattered onto their head. They coughed and before they could figure out what was happening, their scalp was being scrubbed by two skeletal hands, suds of fluffy soap sliding off into the pool. 

“ **Don’t know why the hell Papyrus has a bottle of shampoo laying around, but I’m not complaining. Your hair is like a rat’s nest for fuck’s sake**.” 

Sans worked his fingers through countless amounts of knots while Frisk played lazily in the water, making a mediocre mustache out of what little suds floated their way. The sentry guard knew next to nothing about children, but he knew for a fact they shouldn’t be this beat up. Most of the scars they adorned were old; definitely not gained from down here. 

Unless they were a daredevil, which he highly doubted, there was no reason for their back to be littered with thin white lines. He decided not to call attention to it. He had enough trouble taming the beast that was on top of their head. No need to add another worry on top of the tower he had already created. 

He glanced at the long gash across their brachium, trying to discern how bad it was. Judging from the kid’s behavior, it didn’t hurt too much, and didn’t look all that deep. They probably got grazed is all. Still, it was surprising just how much blood one human could lose by a simple cut. 

Their sweater was so red you might just as well dye the rest of it crimson. Undyne was most likely celebrating that she gave the brat a mortal wound, when it was just a scratch. Speaking of Undyne, if Sans knew her at all, he knew she was tracking down the human right this second. Following a trail of blood, no doubt. 

He really wasn’t in the mood to fight her. But if he let her take the kid with no complaints, then all the work he’d already gone through to fix the fucking tyke would be pointless. He gave a long, suffering sigh. 

_What the fuck am I doing?_ He thought to himself. _Even Papyrus wasn’t this much trouble when he was a tot, and he turned the whole town on its head every day!_ A human was not on his list of things to take care for.

This would be a one time thing. He was generous enough to give them a head start, dress their gash or whatever, but then it would be “ _au revoir_ ” for them. No more hints, no more shortcuts, no more even _looking_ at a human ever again. 

Frisk giggled softly and waved their hand at him, flicking water onto his face. He stared at them with the best grimace he could manage, but that didn’t do anything to deter them. They simply grinned mischievously and splashed him again. In retaliation, Sans dunked their head underwater for a split second and they came back up gasping for air. For a second he thought he might’ve upset them, because they looked positively shocked at the turn of events. 

To his surprise, however, they burst out into a fit of laughter, clutching their stomach and curling into a little ball. Their laugh was so infectious Sans found himself chuckling as well, his deep baritone voice mixing with the delighted sounds of a child having the time of their life. 

Ok. So maybe this wasn’t _so_ bad. 

——

After Frisk’s fingers were sufficiently pruny, Sans drained the bath and draped a towel over their shoulders, instructing them to sit on a chair while he brushed their hair with the comb he bought for laughs. Their laceration wasn’t bleeding anymore, and looked to be in good shape. No infection; he had to give Undyne props. She made a clean cut. 

He wasn’t particularly gentle with his preening, and the brat winced every time he forced a knot to come loose. _Tough luck_ , he thought, _maybe next time you’ll think before asking a monster for help_. Frisk kicked their bare feet, still too short for their toes to reach the floor. They hummed softly in the back of their throat; some melody that Sans didn’t recognize. 

“ **Alright** ,” he said, shoving the comb back in his pocket, “ **wait here**.” 

He was gone in a blink of an eye, leaving the small child to their own devices. They hopped off of the chair and wandered around the quiet house, holding the towel around themselves protectively. The room they walked into was barren and boring; no pictures or decor to speak of, and a garish red couch in the middle of the room, a tiny TV sat on a stool in front of it. 

Their eyes scanned the area for a remote but came up short. Gazing instead out the window behind the sofa, they saw a variety of hilarity before them. Monster Kid was up to no good, messing with the shopkeep and running off with merchandise while a average looking joe snickered behind his cigarette. 

Frisk looked up at the angry sky, that was just beginning to become too harsh even for the Snowdin residents. They couldn’t see the ceiling of the cave they were in, and wondered where in the world the snow was coming from anyway. Once a series of beating winds passed, of which even Frisk could hear the whistle of through the wall, the shopkeep finally got a hold of Monster Kid and began berating him to (assumedly) get inside somewhere safe. 

Soon everyone was retreating into their respective homes, leaving Frisk once again without any entertainment. They shivered despite being content, remembering all too well what being caught in a storm was like. 

“ **Hey**.”

Came a voice abruptly from behind them, making them nearly just out of their skin. Frisk whipped around, staring at the offending skeleton. Sans scoffed.

“ **Didn’t I tell you to stay put?** ” He asked, a pair of clothes in his hand. Frisk’s mouth open and closed but no words came out like they wanted to. Not waiting for an answer, he went ahead and told them to put their arms up again, abandoning the towel and putting a white shirt on them that was entirely too big. 

“ **These are my bro’s old clothes. He was a lot bigger than you at your age, but they’ll have to do while your other stuff is washing. Here, put on the rest**.” 

He tossed a pair of baggy pants at the human which they barely caught. They tugged them on, and although they fit snug around their waist, the pant legs went all the way down to the floor, covering their feet. At least it was warm.

That was all they cared about, really. They bunched up the shirt in their tiny fists and bowed gratefully, not being able to find the words “ _thank you for everything_ ”. 

“ **Well, ain’t that polite of a little squirt like you. Don’t think I’ve ever met a kid who’s as courteous**.” He bowed back exaggeratedly, hoping to draw out a laugh from the kid again. This time, his antics got the exact opposite response, though. Their eyes filled with tears and they sniffled, grasping their shirt even tighter as they stared at the floor, suddenly feeling all too many emotions at once. 

“ **Whoa, um. What’s with the waterworks, brat?** ” Sans chuckled nervously. If there was one thing he couldn’t handle, it was crying children. He half expected the kid to burst into wails any minute, but they stayed perfectly quiet, almost like they were holding back on purpose. 

“Th-Thank y-y-you...” they stuttered, “thank y-you.” 

“ **Hell, kid...I thought you were upset at something I did for a sec. warn a guy next time you go crying about how grateful you are or some shit. I don’t wanna hear it. It’s no problem. I’m doing this because I want to, that’s nothing to thank me about**.” 

Frisk went silent and solemnly nodded their head. Sans contemplated ignoring this ever happened, but knew he’d just end up scolding himself later on for not being more...what’s the word... _caring_? 

_Tch_. As if you needed _that_ in the underground. 

He sighed and got down on one knee, opening his arms invitingly. 

“ **All right, fine. Bring it in**.” 

It took no time at all for the youngster to slam into him at lightning speed, almost knocking him over in the process of squeezing him as hard as they could. He patted them on the back reassuringly as they began sobbing against his chest. 

“ **Yeah, I don’t blame you, brat** ,” he said comfortingly, “ **the underground is no place for a kid like you. Just...** ”

_Don’t say it_ , _don’t say it_ , _don’t say it_ —

“ **Just call me when you get into trouble** ,” 

_Goddamn it_.

“ **there’s no way an eight year old can make it through here without some back up. Why do you think Asgore only needs one more soul now?** ” He chuckled darkly at his own joke. Frisk said something muffled against him. 

“ **What was that?** ” 

“Six.” They said. 

“ **Six what?** ” Sans quirked an eyebrow. 

“Six. I’m six, not eight.” 

_Oh_. Well, fuck. The youngest human to enter the underground to date. What a treat. You can _not_ be serious. It seemed just when Sans thought it couldn’t get any worse, he dug the hole for himself even deeper. A fucking _six_ year old. In the most dangerous fucking place on the planet. 

He hadn’t felt this awful since Papyrus got his teeth punched in when he was just a baby-bones. (Of course, Papyrus beat the fuck out of his aggressor immediately afterwards, but that didn’t help Sans feel any less responsible for taking his eyes off him for one second). 

“ **My mistake, then. The point is, you’re a human child surrounded by monsters who want your soul. You don’t have any way to defend yourself except with butterflies, hugs, and rainbows, which don’t help you against people like Undyne**.” 

Frisk shuddered at the mention of the Royal Guard’s leader. 

“ **Yeah, exactly. Now, how about me and you take a look at that scrape she gave you, huh? It’s about time I bandage it up so it doesn’t get infected**.” 

“Mmhm,” they mumbled in agreement. Sans wiped their tears with his sleeve and lifted them up, bringing them back to the bathroom where he was sure Papyrus had moved the medical stuff. He sat them down and ruffled their hair, drawing out a short chortle from the human, who swatted his hand away bashfully. 

Searching in all the drawers and cabinets they thought necessary to add to a fucking _bathroom_ , he finally found the medkit buried behind a multitude of junk. He dragged it out with a huff and set it on the counter. Frisk peeked curiously as far as their eyes could reach over the countertop, going on their tippy toes to get a better view. 

“ **You’re lucky you don’t need stitches, brat. We don’t have anesthesia down in the underground. The best we could do is knock you over the head and go from there, hahaha!** ” 

Frisk gaped in horror, making Sans reach over with a mischievous grin and flick them on the forehead. They made a small sound at the back of their throat and glared at him with all the fury their little body could manage. Which wasn’t all that much. He put a lot of energy into not laughing at them. 

“ **Ok, ok. I surrender. Now show me your arm**.” He said. Frisk thrust their injured appendage towards him, still pouting, and he hiked up their sleeve to get a better look at the offending wound. The surrounding area was red and a little swollen, but that was to be expected. 

Or _was_ it? He wasn’t schooled on human biology and how their bodies heal. For now he would just have to assume it was normal, and deal with the consequences later if it got any worse. It was already pretty clean from soaking in warm water, so all there was left to do was wrap it snuggly in some gauze. 

Taking their arm in one hand and dressing in the other, he carefully began weaving the light fabric around the skinny limb, adding an extra layer for security, so he wouldn’t have to do this ever again. Frisk looking up at him with those giant, innocent orbs were starting to make him feel _way_ too fuzzy inside. 

Tying it all off neatly, he shoved the medkit back into its place, sighed heavily, and glanced down at the child, who was busy staring at him with a soft smile spread across their cheeks. They approached and put their arms gently around his leg, too short to even reach his middle. Sans rolled his eyes. 

“ **I really don’t know why you came to me for help in the first place** ,” he said, “ **it’s not like I’m any different from all the other monsters down here**.” Frisk shook their head fervently against his thigh, squeezing his leg tighter like a leech. 

“No.” They stated firmly. 

“ **Jeez, you’re really strong for a pipsqueak. You could’ve easily taken out Undyne. And what makes you say that anyway, huh? I’m just as bad to the bone as any other fucking loser who’s stuck in the underground. I’m only helping you because Papyrus is out on patrol and he’d be upset if I let his ‘favorite human’ die**.” 

“I like Papyrus.” They said offhandedly. Sans laughed, and was inclined to agree.

“ **Me too, brat. Me too. He can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, but he’s my bro**.” 

Frisk finally detached themselves from him, huffing slightly. 

“You’re a good person,” They said, leaving no room for discussion, “Papyrus is too. You both are good. Better than anyone else I’ve met.” 

With that, they strutted out of the room, Sans right behind them. He tried many times to rekindle the conversation about how he _was_ , in fact, a piece of shit, but Frisk went back to being the silent type, only shaking their head every time he tried to get his point across. 

Eventually, the two of them devolved into a comfortable quiet. 

That is, until the child’s stomach rumbled ravenously, and Sans couldn’t help laughing at the embarrassment on their face, like they weren’t allowed to be hungry or something. Needless to say, they spent the rest of the day trying to cook up something decent. 

(News flash, everything ended up burnt. But Frisk still ate it all like it was the greatest cuisine they’ve ever tasted.) 

——

Sans expected Papyrus to return home when the storm started getting worse. Yet it seemed the taller skeleton was too prideful (as usual) to let a measly blizzard stop him from doing his guard duties. The good news, though, was that Sans knew he was safe. Freezing temperatures had no effect on fleshless beings like them, and the worst that would happen was he’d be covered in snow when he got back, tracking it everywhere. 

However, no matter how many reassuring words Sans told Frisk, the worried tot still stayed glued to the window by the front door, hoping to see a towering figure soon appear. The wind howled viciously and shook the walls like a vengeful poltergeist, and the white fluff that fell from the sky came fast and heavy, building up into a winter wasteland. 

“ **Staring outside isn’t going to make him come back any faster, brat**.” Sans said while absentmindedly watching TV. Mettaton was the only thing on; he had heard that Alphys had created a new robot, but this was just... _depressing_. The guy looked like he was about to have a mental breakdown for the whole underground to see. Sans didn’t blame him, Alphys was always a bitchy mad scientist. Probably didn’t treat him with the most respect. 

Frisk sighed. 

“ **Come here and watch this** ,” he waved them over with a flick of his wrist, “ **looks like Mettaton’s finally lost it**.” Drawing their attention towards the television, the human finally dragged themselves away from the sill, walking over and plopping onto the couch beside him. They made a funny face at what was happening on the screen; a mix of shock, disbelief, empathy, and downright sadness. 

Mettaton was in the middle of losing his shit in front of thousands of monsters. Flinging ingredients from his cooking show all over the place and threatening to slice people apart while brandishing a chainsaw.

At least it was entertaining. 

As the show progressed, Alphys eventually had to make an appearance and shut him off before he made good on his promise of spilling someone’s dust. All the monsters in the audience howled in anger and threw all manner of things at the scientist for ruining the fun (at one point Sans thought he saw someone throw a grenade). He almost burst out into laughter when someone knocked out the camera man and proceeded to film the entire thing vlog style. 

Frisk fidgeted in their seat, glancing every once in a while back at the door. 

“ **Relax, kid. I know my own brother a lot better than you do. He’s fine**.” 

They didn’t even seem to hear him, too preoccupied with picking their finger nails anxiously. Sans groaned and swiftly pinched their cheek, making them almost fall off the couch with a high pitched yelp. They squinted their eyes at him angrily while forlornly rubbing their jowl. 

“ **Read my non-existent lips, kiddo** ,” he said, pointing at them, “ ** _He. Is. Fine_**.” 

A sudden pounding at the door made them both jump. It was only once, and the room was silent again. For a moment Sans thought it was just his imagination. But then why would the kid freak out too? Then, with renewed vigor, there came more pounding; booming knocks that shook the whole house. 

Frisk’s face slowly alighted into a giant grin, and they quickly ran to the front entrance. Sans scoffed. He was kind of hoping the big asshole would stay outside a little longer. Then he wouldn’t have to explain why the human was casually staying at their house, in his old clothes. 

Oh well. At least he knocked this time.

... _Wait_. Papyrus had never once knocked before. He always barged right in, whether Sans locked the damn door or not. Even when he was tiny, he’d try to force his way through rather than be caught dead knocking. “ _Too polite_ ”, he always said. 

So that meant only one thing. 

_**FUCK**_. 

“ **Frisk, don’t—!** ” 

But it was too late. The door swung open with a resounding bang, revealing a towering armored warrior with a bloody spear in hand. 

_Undyne_. 


	2. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Undyne’s deadly grasp is narrowly evaded. Papyrus returns, and the two brothers decide their next course of action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I maaaay have decided to make another chapter. Don’t hold your breath for another! I’m an unreliable scumbag!

Sans wasn’t sure how fast he jumped into action, but it certainly wasn’t fast enough. Undyne’s spear came down like a bolt of lightning, and Frisk’s frame shrunk down to the floor in cold fear. The tip of her weapon barely touched the top of their forehead before red magic enveloped it, keeping it stuck in time as the knight tried futilely to push it down. She growled in frustration, her helmeted head whipping up to point her attention towards the skeleton who had frozen her kill. 

The human’s body shook violently with nerves, a slim stream of blood traveling down their face. One second too late, and the sharp object would’ve been plunged into their skull. Freezing air and snow wafted into the house through the gaping doorway; all was silent. 

“ **Frisk. Come** **here.** ” Sans spoke sternly, hand outstretched and magic still struggling to keep Undyne’s rage in check. The child gulped and slowly crawled away towards him, eyes never leaving the tall figure’s piercing, bloodthirsty gaze. They grasped their savior’s finger, breathing labored and bottom lip quivering. 

“Don’t play games with me, _Sans_ ,” Undyne warned, trying to pull her weapon from his magical grasp, “give me the runt, and we never have to speak of this again. Asgore will not act kindly if you continue with this stupid prank. And neither will I.” 

“ **Though I would love it to be, this isn’t a prank. Now leave.** ” The skeleton’s tone was so dark even the one he was protecting cowered slightly at the sound. However, the Royal Guard captain merely cackled and removed her helmet with one hand, letting it clatter to the floor. Her red lips stretched into a sadistic grin, all the way up to her fin-like ears. 

A gust of sharp wind made her crimson hair fly crazy, and she looked the perfect part of insane. 

“ **Shut the door, wouldja. It’s getting a bit chilly in here.** ” Sans said.

“Cut the shit, comedian. We both know you can’t feel it.” 

“ **Fine then. My _guest_ requests you shut the goddamn door.**” Sans gestured down to Frisk, who gasped and retreated over to their ghastly couch, slipping underneath it with ease. Undyne rolled her eyes, but reluctantly slammed the door closed, which shuddered dangerously. 

“ **Hey, be _gentle_. Those hinges are new.**” 

“Release my spear, Sans. You’re starting to _sweat_ ,” she hissed, “I’m not stupid enough to think I’m stronger than you, but I know your power has drawbacks.” 

Sans’s eyes scanned back and forth between her and her prey, a sliver of saline traveling down his cranium. Sighing exasperatedly, and with no shortage of hesitance, he let the spear go. He was aware of the possibility of her trying to attack again; he just also knew he’d be faster this time. She caught him off guard when she suddenly showed up on his porch, but now that she was here he could read her next moves like a book. _Predictable is what she is_ , Sans thought, _she really should work on that._

The warrior twirled her weapon around ( _show off_ ) and bowed sarcastically. She still had that smug look on her face like she hadn’t just been humiliated. Sans matched it with a grin of his own. 

“ **Where exactly do you get off killing little kids?** ” He asked, glancing back at the couch. A pair of wet, bright brown pupils peeked back up at him through the crack. “ **Cause to me it seems like you get a little _too_ excited at the thought of killing human children. Kinda suspicious if you ask me.**” 

“Ha. Ha. _Ha,_ ” Undyne spat, “ _Very_ funny. Now are you gonna hand it over or what?” 

“ **Hmm, now isn’t _that_ a predicament. Because I don’t recall saying I’d give them to you. Strange,**” he drawled, grin turning positively wicked as Undyne’s expression grew sour. An angry fist shook at her side, blue skin turning even bluer as her circulation got caught in her webbed fingers. 

“This isn’t a game, Sans!” She said.

“ **I never said it was.** ” 

“Ugh! Why are you so fucking annoying?! The fate of all monster kind hangs in the balance!” 

“ **The fate of all monster kind? I thought the whole plan was to escape this hellhole just so we could go commit genocide up top. Hard pass from me, really.** ” 

“Give me the human _right_ now.” 

“ **Nope, Sorry,** ” Sans shrugged, “ **finder’s keepers.** ” 

“GAH, _enough_ of this!” She boomed, slamming the end of her spear against the floor, sending a reverberating quake throughout the entirety of Snowdin. She zipped across the room and threw a punch at the skeleton, who easily teleported away from her attack with his hands behind his back. She bared her teeth and attempted to kick his feet out from under him, only to receive a backhanded slash to the cheek from a sharp bone sailing through the air. 

As the commotion stirred out in the open, Frisk withdrew further into their cave, body shivering head to toe. They silently clasped their palms together and closed their eyes, whispering a prayer like they saw people do in church. There was a clash and the sound of glass breaking; a sound they were all too familiar with. They inserted a finger in each ear, hoping to drown out the noise, and equally disturbing memories. 

“ **Listen, I don’t know why you—** “ Sans was cut off by a pair of knuckles to the face, sending him stumbling backwards. He held his cheek with a skeletal hand, glowering up at her smug expression. She lunged forward with the tip of her spear pointed to his chest, and right before it could make contact, red energy enveloped the warrior, lifting her off the floor and slamming her against the ceiling. 

Her armor gave a satisfying crack once she plummeted back to the floor, face sufficiently bruised and hair a tangled mess. Never missing a beat, she was immediately back on her feet, wiping a hand over her bloodied nose. 

“Resilient, eh?” She asked, chuckling lowly. 

“ **Nah. More like an annoying bug that buzzes in your ear and won’t leave you the _fuck_ alone.**” He growled.

“Human!” Undyne suddenly addressed, ignoring his insult and eyes turning to the unassuming sofa, “surrender to me and your death will be painless! It would be better to die by my hand rather than King Asgore’s. We only need one more soul to break free of this prison! If you are truly as kind as Papyrus says, reveal yourself! All we want is to see the surface!” 

“ **Runt, I _swear_ if your goody-two-shoes ass falls for her bullshit, I’ll kill you myself.**” Sans reprimanded. 

The slightest sound of shuffling fabric came out from under their hiding place, and a little bundle of nerves crawled out slowly like a fearful mouse, face flushed and eyes puffy. They stood on wobbly feet and stared the warrior down, trying to look tall as she raised an eyebrow at them. 

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that. You’ve got guts, kid.” Undyne scoffed. 

The now _very_ irritated sentry guard facepalmed at the pure _audacity_ this kid had. Where in hell did they get the nerve when he spent all day making sure they didn’t _die_? 

“Do you promise that’s all you want? To be free?” They asked, taking a step forward. 

“Of course—“ she started with a sly grin, only to be interrupted by a pointed bone suddenly being just an inch away from her throat. She swallowed, glaring down at Sans whose empty eyes spoke for just how serious he was. A faint red glow appeared in his right socket, and he grabbed Frisk by the back of the shirt, dragging them behind him. They yelped in surprise, grabbing a handful of his jacket to regain balance once he released them.

“Awww, isn’t that sweet,” Undyne mocked, “I didn’t know you were _that_ attached to the thing. Don’t you remember what happened the last time you decided to care for a hu—“ 

“ ** _Shut. Up._** ” Sans said darkly, red glow flaring up dangerously, his weapon going to press against her neck, just light enough not to break the skin, “ _ **finish that sentence and it’ll be the last thing you ever say. Get the fuck out of my house.**_ ” 

Undyne’s smirk diminished, and she made a face of which emotion Frisk could not discern. Sans was furious, that much was true; and the child took a step back from both of them. The storm raging outside made the silence in the room all the more prominent, rattling the windows with its icy ferocity. 

“ _Fine_ ,” she finally said, running a hand through her hair resignedly, “but you are going to regret this. And you know _exactly_ what I mean by that.” 

She walked over to the door, picking her helmet back up off the floor and securing it to her head. Even though they couldn’t see her face through the intimidating mask, Frisk knew she was frowning. Her red eyes pierced through the two slits, looking back at them with ire, before she turned away and opened the door.

Leaving without a trace; as if she was never there to begin with.

Well, except for the Undyne shaped hole in the ceiling. 

——

Papyrus still hadn’t returned. And Frisk was really hoping he would by now, because his angry older brother was staring down at them like a hawk. They smiled sheepishly and directed their eyes towards the floor, deciding that a measly crack in the floor was now the most interesting thing they’d ever seen. 

“Are you mad?” They asked quietly, wringing their hands together. 

“ **No, I’m fucking dandy,** ” He quipped, deadpan, “ **what in the actual _hell_ was that? Do you think it’s funny to just almost sacrifice yourself on the fly?**” 

He spread his arms out exasperatedly, chuckling in disbelief, “ **honestly, kid. You’d think you would have a little bit more self preservation skills. You are aware that if I hadn’t dragged your sorry ass away from her, you’d be dead now, right?** ” 

They stayed silent. Even though he couldn’t see their face, he just knew they were on the verge of tears. Sans sighed. Being emotionally available was _not_ how he planned to spend his day, but it seemed now he had gone and hurt the runt’s feelings. _Lovely_. Why did children have to be so sensitive? He got down to their level and put a hand on their shoulder, tipping their chin up so they looked at him. 

“ **Listen, alright? I’m mad. I’m mad at that fish lady who nearly broke down my damn door, I’m mad that Papyrus isn’t home yet, and I’m mad that I didn’t get to go to Grillby’s today. But you? I’m more...concerned about. And that came across as anger. So I’m sorry. You just...you can’t do that shit, ok? That self sacrificial bullshit. I didn’t let you into my house just so you could get yourself killed, and you’re not dying just because you think it’ll make a few selfish monsters feel better.** ” 

He poked their chest at the word ‘ _selfish_ ’ for extra emphasis, drawing out a sniffly giggle from them. 

“ **You understand?** ” 

They nodded their head affirmatively, drying their wet eyes with their sleeve. They pattered over to the window, peeking out into the raging storm. For a moment, the silhouette of a tall being could be seen through the thicket in the woods, red glowing pupils locking onto them. The child puffed their chest to appear tough, when all they really wanted to do was hide again. One look away, and the figure was gone. 

“Will she be back?” Frisk asked hesitantly, biting at their nails. Sans scoffed. 

“ **Eventually,** ” he said, “ **but there’s nothing she can really do. Unless she wants to end up as dust in my carpet.** ” 

They glared up at the skeleton, “killing people is bad, Sans.” 

“ **Well aren’t you so matter-of-fact, little Mx. ‘ _I wanna be friends with everyone even if it means I die_ ’.**” He chuckled.

“What’s wrong with wanting friends?” They pouted, folding their arms. 

“ **Wanting to be friends with the wrong people.** ” He answered with no hesitation. 

“Well, I think you—“ 

“SAAAAAAAAAANS!” Came a booming voice, making Frisk nearly jump out of their skin in fright. They ran over to Sans and grabbed his coat right before the door was torn off its hinges with a resounding ‘crack’, and the howling wind took that as its opportunity to pour in like a flooding dam. Snow and ice blew onto Frisk’s face and they squinted, coughing. 

“ **Well that was quite the entrance,** ” Sans commented blandly, voice slightly raised to be heard over the noisy weather, “ **you sure you needed to break the fucking door again?** ” 

“IT SHOWS DOMINANCE TO THE OTHER RESIDENTS,” Papyrus yelled, pushing the broken door half-hazardously back into place, “I THOUGHT I ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT, IMBECILE!”

“ **Undyne decided to drop in earlier. You just missed her I’m afraid.** ” 

“WHAT? WHY IN HELL WOULD SHE BE HERE?” He asked, confused. He still hadn’t fully turned to face his brother, missing how the human slipped out of hiding to cling to Sans’s side. They appreciated how he ran a hand through their hair comfortingly, and leaned into it ever so slightly. 

“ **Take a wild guess.** ”

The taller skeleton huffed and turned around, gasping rather dramatically. He stared down at the child, mouth agape like he’d never seen them before in his life. They smiled bashfully and waved their hand in greeting. 

“OH. _OOOOOOOOOH_. I _SEE_.” He said, lightbulb switching on in his brain. 

“ **Yeah. _Oh_.**” Sans remarked. 

Papyrus gave a long, suffering sigh, closing his eyes and clasping his hands together. He looked about ready to explode. 

“AND WHY, MAY I ASK, IS THE HUMAN HERE?”

“ **Well, ya see, first they demanded to be let in the house or they’d dust me. Nasty little fucker is a killer, I gotta say. And—** “ Sans was interrupted by a shrill exclamation from the child.

“I didn’t do that, you liar!” Frisk stamped their foot, only to receive a ruffle of the hair and a hushing motion from him. 

“ **Quiet now, the grown ups are talking. As I was saying, they—** “ 

“I’M NOT IN THE MOOD FOR JOKES, SANS.” Papyrus interjected, deadpan. Frisk nodded their head fervently in agreement, crossing their arms. Sans rolled his eyes and muttered something about “buzzkills” under his breath. 

“ **Fine. The little squirt showed up at our door injured from Undyne and freezing so I let them in, patched them up, gave them your old clothes, and now they’re freeloading. Is that better?** ” 

There was a pause. 

“Wh-What does freeloading mean?” Frisk asked meekly, tilting their head. Both brothers ignored them, and the following chaos ensued.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” Papyrus screeched.

“ **What else was I supposed to do, dumbass?** ” He rebutted.

“I DON’T KNOW, BUT CERTAINLY NOT THIS BULLSHIT!” He sputtered, arms flailing.

“ **Admit it, you would’ve been pissed if I let them die.** ” Sans smirked.

“HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!” 

“ **Because you refused to fight them when they crossed you, you repeatedly lied to Undyne about their whereabouts, and you made a fucking _snowman_ with them.**” 

“THE-THEY WERE VERY CONVINCING!” 

“ **Oh please, you like them. You just get mad at everything I do.** ” 

“I DO _NOT_!” He denied. 

The human looked back and forth between them as they bickered, pursing their lips together awkwardly. They shuffled their feet, keeping the two in their peripheral vision as they slowly began to retreat, tiptoeing away. Papyrus evidently noticed their discomfort, and called out to them. 

“HUMAN! COME HERE, PLEASE.” He said, crouching down to their level and beckoning them over. He still looked a bit agitated, but managed to calm his demeanor, smiling like he didn’t know how to. Frisk pattered over to him, looking down at their torn shoes. 

“YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO HUMANS DOWN HERE, CORRECT?” He questioned. They nodded grievously and reached out, grasping one of his fingers with their right hand. Papyrus resisted the urge to melt at their sheer adorableness. Sans watched amusedly from the sidelines as “ _big bad Royal Guard_ ” himself tried to keep his composure.

“AND YOU WANT TO GET OUT OF HERE? GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM?” 

Frisk immediately shook their head, like the mere idea was preposterous. Papyrus’s eyes widened with surprise. 

“No, I like it here...” they mumbled, big brown eyes looking up at him. Sans watched closely as their demeanor changed from happy-go-lucky to reserved and anxious. The kid had something to hide, that was certain. He had an inclination as to what that was, but he was really hoping he was wrong. 

“BUT EVERYONE WANTS TO KILL YOU! SURELY THAT’S A BAD THING, MY FRIEND.” He stressed, face contorting into something akin to concern. Sans held back a breathy laugh.

“You guys don’t wanna hurt me,” They argued, squeezing his thumb, “you guys are good people...” 

“ **If only that were true, kid.** ” Sans muttered, chuckling. Papyrus ignored him, giving his full, undivided attention to the small child who rocked back and forth on their heels. If he had a lip, he would be biting it. 

“WE AREN’T AS NICE AS YOU THINK WE ARE, HUMAN. WE’VE DONE...HORRIBLE THINGS.” He said, much quieter. Frisk pouted, and shook their head again. The two brothers smiled sadly, appreciating their _very_ misplaced affection. 

“ **Someone’s gotta be missing you up there, runt. What about your Mom?** ” Sans asked, the answer of which he was secretly dreading. The child’s face fell at the mere word, an aura of fear and dismay invading. Papyrus glowered at him, and he shrugged stupidly. 

“I don’t wanna talk about her.” They whispered. 

_Well now you’ve done it, asshole,_ Sans thought, _you knew not to ask about their family and you did it anyway. Nice one. If they viewed some monsters down here as welcoming, there was no telling what the world was like for them up top._ The imagine of the scars on their back was burning in his memory. 

“PLEASE EXCUSE MY HALFWIT BROTHER, HUMAN,” Papyrus said, “HE’S AN IDIOT.” Sans rolled his eyes. Noticing the signs of an incoming onslaught of emotion, he approached the child and casually lifted them up into his arms, wiping away their tears with his hand. They wrapped their limbs around his neck, burrowing into the fluff of his jacket as they tried not to make any noise. 

The picture painted in front of the taller skeleton was all too familiar. Same Sans, different kid. 

He just hoped it wouldn’t end the same. 

He hoped things could be _different_. 

——

As the day pressed onward, and the ferocity of nature tore through the town of Snowdin, Frisk shivered at the cold of their own thoughts. When there wasn’t anything else distracting them, it was easy for them to get lost. Memories crept in without warning or consent; not in the least bit welcome. 

There was a lot they wanted to forget. In the six years they were alive, so much had already happened. So much sickness, torment, and noise. The crack of a belt was all they could hear sometimes. Too sudden, too loud, too painful. The face of a Mother who turned into a monster they didn’t recognize, and the clenched fist of a Father whose face they had blocked out entirely. 

They stared at the ceiling, tracing lines in the paint to pass the time. Whispers drifted from the kitchen, too quiet to make out any words. Nonetheless, they knew the subject was about them. They shuddered under the warm blanket they were given, burrowing further into the embrace of the sofa. They couldn’t sleep.

...and their back hurt. 

——

“ **I know what you’re thinking,** ” Sans said, hushed as to not wake the sleeping child on the couch. The day was finally gone, and night fell quick. The storm still raged, but calmed in the silence of its residents. Papyrus laid his head down on the kitchen counter in dramatic despair. He gave a long sigh.

“YOU DON’T HONESTLY THINK THEY CAN STAY HERE, DO YOU?” He asked slowly. Sans shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging. The defensiveness in his voice leaked through very prominently. 

“ **What do you think I should do? Throw them to the wolves?** ”

“NO, SANS. BUT TO THINK WE CAN TAKE CARE OF A HUMAN DOWN HERE IS PREPOSTEROUS, PLAINLY SPEAKING.” 

Silence befell the brothers. 

“YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED LAST TIME.”

For a split second, Sans’s eye flared dangerously, before he forced himself to calm down and the flame died. He was left looking exhausted; like the events of the day were just now starting to sink in. He never meant for any of this to happen. The kid wasn’t supposed to show up out of nowhere, pitifully alone. Needing someone. _Anyone_ , to tell them it was okay.

He wasn’t supposed to get attached. But old habits died hard. Now all he could do was hope not to fuck it all up again.

“ **I thought I told you never to mention that again.** ” He said coldly, sadness trickling down into his tone. Papyrus reached out to put a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder, a knowing look in his eyes. 

“I’M SORRY. I JUST DON’T WANT YOU TO GET HURT AGAIN. DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT I TOLD YOU AFTER SHE PASSED, AND WHAT I WILL CONTINUE TO REMIND YOU OF?” 

Sans chuckled, shoving Papyrus’s arm playfully and nearly toppling him off his seat. He adjusted his black, tattered cape, glaring halfheartedly. 

“ **That was a long time ago...** ” he paused, eyes wandering to a trembling window, “ **but yeah, I remember.** ” 

“DO YOU WANT TO SAY IT OR SHALL I? BECAUSE AT THIS POINT IT’S NOT GOING TO REALLY SINK IN UNLESS YOU SAY IT, BONEHEAD.” Papyrus teased, raising an nonexistent eyebrow. Sans rolled his eyes, though his rising smile betrayed him. 

“‘ ** _It’s not your fault, you thickheaded, softhearted ignoramus,_** ’” Sans mimicked, “ **remind me again how that was supposed to make me feel _better_?**” 

“TOUGH LOVE, BIG BROTHER,” he answered, slapping him on the back, “AND IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT. ACCEPT THAT.” 

Sans looked at him, a sheen of tears suddenly appearing in his eyes. It was years since he last cried. He supposed it was bound to happen sooner or later; he wanted so badly to believe him. That he tried his best, and that was all he could do. That it wasn’t his fault, and the rotten king’s instead. That he couldn’t stop it, even if he went back in time trying to remedy it. 

But if he had just tried a little _harder_ ; reached a little _further_ , for that little desperate hand. Maybe he wouldn’t be here today. Slowly but surely, those tears shed, dripping down his chin into the palm of his hand. He hadn’t even cried when it first happened. Too much burning rage running through his system, and a hunger for dust. If it wasn’t for Papyrus, he probably would’ve turned the underground to rubble. 

“IF YOU WANT TO PROTECT THEM, HELP THEM GET TO THE SURFACE,” Papyrus said, “I’LL BE THERE WITH YOU THE WHOLE WAY. NO MATTER WHAT THEIR SITUATION IS UP THERE, IT’S GOT TO BE BETTER THAN DOWN HERE. AND IF I NEED TO KICK UNDYNE’S ASS, SO BE IT.”

Sans nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets with a deep breath. 

“ **Ok,** ” He agreed stoically, “ **let’s do this. But _only_ if I get to kill Asgore.**” 

“HE’S ALL YOURS,” Papyrus smiled. 

——

Behind a wall, peeking around the corner, Frisk listened intently. 

And their heart sank. 


	3. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk reflects, the snowstorm stops, and a terrible dream leads to a meltdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I’m back. Bet you weren’t expecting this. I like keeping people on their toes ;)

Frisk sat crisscross in front of a crackling fire, wrapped in an array of different cozy blankets, deep in thought. You’d think a six year old wouldn’t ponder such things as convoluted as life and death, but you’d be wrong. There wasn’t much else on their mind. It swirled and wandered like the snowflakes outside, collecting into a mass of anxiety and doubt like the mountain of white fluff on the ground. 

What if this was all a dream? They had speculated such as they transversed the Ruins. But that seemed so long ago now, and dreams didn’t usually have a very prolonged life. At least, not their dreams. They remembered a time when a cucumber was chasing them around with a spoon in his hand before they started awake. _That_ only lasted a few seconds. 

But, now their mind was getting off track. This was _no_ dream. And if it was, they hoped it wasn’t. Despite the traumatic experiences surely to follow them to the grave, they felt a feeling like no other down here. 

They had no success identifying what that feeling was, unfortunately. 

In that little patch of wilted flowers, bones aching and head oozing a stream of blood, they had looked up at the light in the sky; a small beam only large enough to illuminate their immediate surroundings. They recalled how they laid there. Hopeless, limp, empty. They hadn’t died. Much to their...disappointment. The heart beating in their chest synced with the pounding in their skull, rubbing in the fact that they were indeed alive.

Or perhaps they really had died, and this was hell. That would explain the pain they felt. Heaven would be another possibility if they thought they deserved that sort of happiness. But they didn’t. They let out a stuttering sigh, hoisting themselves up and wobbling on their ( _surprisingly not broken_ ) legs. 

In the darkness they felt their way around, using the wet, cold wall of the cavern to lead them forward. As they crept along, the puddles underneath their feet splashed, and hanging stalactites dripped water into their hair rhythmically. 

Eventually, they came upon a giant, gaping doorway, only distinguishable by the outline of its curiously decorated frame. It took their eyes a minute to adjust to the low light so they could properly make it out. 

“H-Hello?” They called out meekly, turning the corner. The entrance led to a wide open space with a course dirt floor, where their shoes left small, pronounced prints. That was the moment they met Flowey. A poor little flower standing erect from the ground, pedals a fainted yellow, misshapen and torn. As his eyes turned to face them, he let out a strangled gasp, leaves rustling. 

“Oh no,” he muttered with a dire expression, “oh no no no no _NO_. You can’t be here! Get away, before she comes!” 

The alarm in his voice distracted them from the fact they were speaking to a plant. A million thoughts swirled in their mind, keeping them from any coherent words. The best they could manage was a small sound of confusion. 

“ _Please_ , human. I don’t have time to explain, but you need to _hide_ ,” he hissed in a whisper, eyes fidgeting left and right. The child gulped, a feeling of cold dread washing over them. 

The whole cave seemed to freeze, Frisk along with it. The slight, ghostly steps of feet on stone echoed through the chamber. The flower cowered as the shadow of a figure came into view, tall and regal. 

They whipped their head around to stare at the bloodshot eyes coming into focus, their feet carrying them backwards in fear. When they looked back to the buttercup, he had already disappeared into the Earth, a ripple in the dirt the only sign he was ever there. 

They had the urge to scream, but the sound got caught in their throat. Never before had they seen such a being. Goat-like and monstrous, with jagged teeth and curling horns sharper than the point of knives. 

“Well, what do we have here?” A feminine voice emerged from her lips, sweet but somehow dangerous. She wore a tattered dress with a strange symbol on it; the symbol of the ruins, they would later learn. 

She smiled, approaching like a predator does its prey. Frisk stumbled over a loose rock, crashing to the floor with a ‘boom’. Their brain pounded more fiercely than before, their legs shivered, their eyes rolled back into their head—

And then there was nothing. For a moment, as they regained consciousness, they thought they were waking up from a nightmare. But when they felt the bandage around their forehead, saw the unfamiliar room, and smelled the savory pie, they were left bewildered. 

Toriel seemed nice enough. Once they were over the fact that monsters were real ( _they always had an inkling they were_ ), they had no trouble making themselves at home. Yet they still heeded the flowers warning, and tiptoed around the parental beast. Thinking back on it, she was _mourning_. They didn’t know who she had lost before, but their Mama had acted almost the exact same when Dada died. 

_Aggressive, sad, passive, bleak, apathetic, empathetic, mean, despairing_. All wrapped up in one unpredictable package. It came to a point where all Frisk could think about was a way out. 

They had escaped this situation before, and they could do it again. The number one rule: do not aggravate. You stay submissive, or you pay the consequences. No matter how much pie was thrown onto their plate, at the end of the day, Toriel had a mentality that scared them. 

Her house turned into a prison rather than a home; and the basement door was the only way to freedom. They could still feel the ghost of the flames that burned their skin that night. They shuddered despite the warm fire in front of them, and bundled deeper into their cocoon of comfort. They could still hear Sans and Papyrus talking in the other room. 

They didn’t get much sleep since the brothers’ last discussion. There was still so much they were in the dark about. What was ‘ _the last time_ ’, like Undyne said? Who were they talking about that night? 

More importantly, they did _not_ want to go back to the surface. They disappeared for a reason those two didn’t understand. They thought they did, but they didn’t. And...it made them _mad_. Grownups always thought they were right when they were wrong. Why couldn’t they just be more like kids? 

Or maybe Sans and Papyrus just wanted them gone. Maybe that was the real reason they wanted to send them back. It wouldn’t be the first time someone didn’t want them. They hid their face in one of their blankets, heaving a shaky sigh. From the other room, the talking finally stopped. The sound of heavy footsteps reached their ears, getting closer and closer before halting. 

“ **You okay?** ” Sans asked. Frisk peeked up at him, shrugging depressingly. He raised an eyebrow, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“ **You don’t know?** ” He said, a teasing grin encroaching on his face. They shrugged again, a bit more aggressively. They weren’t in the mood to _talk_. 

“ **Well** ,” he sat down next to them, pulling them towards him, “ **that’s fine, I guess. We can’t all know how we feel all the time**.”   


Frisk _refused_ to lean into his side. No matter how he looked at them, they would stay angry. End of discussion. _No_. _Matter_. _What_.

Then he ruffled their hair, and that was the breaking point. Their heavy head fell against his ribs, the soft cushion of his coat so comfortable they felt like they were on a cloud. He chuckled, resting a hand on their tensed shoulder. 

“ **You’re a weird kid, ya’know that?** ” He said. Frisk rolled their eyes, halfheartedly punching his chest. 

_You’re weird_ , they rebutted in their mind. 

The smallest hint of a smile encroached onto their lips. 

——

_“H-How did you get past her? I was watching from a distance, I thought you were a goner!” Flowey said, eyes wide. Frisk desperately held back the onslaught of tears threatening to fall, gazing down at their hand where one of Toriel’s attacks had landed. It stung just as much as the hole left in their heart._

_They had come across the buttercup once again after their fight with her. It was a hectic battle, considering they spent the whole time trying not to be struck by her fiery magic. Their hair was a mess, and the ash in their lungs made them cough weakly. They were absolutely exhausted._

_“I’m glad you survived her, human,” he continued after the child refused to speak, looking relieved, “even if she didn’t really want to kill you, she could’ve easily accidentally done so. I suppose you want to know my name, right? It’s Flowey, Flowey the flower. I’m...not like the other monsters. I keep my distance as much as possible.”_

_Frisk bowed curtly in greeting, though they didn’t return the introduction. All they did was keep staring at their crumpled hand. Their tiny, once youthful palm was now blistered and red, peeling up to reveal raw, sensitive skin. It made them want to puke; bile rose steadily in their throat. Why did they still think she’d be different? They knew she’d hurt them, but didn’t want to believe their own mind._

_They were a fool._

_“Listen...I don’t know how to tell you this, but the underground is a brutal place. If you don’t fight, you’ll die! You got lucky this time. Please, if you can, avoid any monsters you see. I promise you none of them are pure hearted.” The flower stressed._

_No response. Only the faint sound of labored breathing._

_“I’m sorry you ended up down here,” he sympathized quietly, “no one should ever have to go through this hell. It only gets more dangerous from here on out...I hope you make it, human. I really do. You deserve to go back home.”_

_To their ears, that sounded more like an insult than a consolation. Still, they bit their tongue, never once looking away from their ruined hand. Flowey sighed. A draft wafted in from the door to the outside, cold and dry. He looked back at where they had come, seemingly expecting something to happen. Or someone to appear._

_Without another word, he vanished just like the last time, leaving behind one of his wilted leaves, and a child without a friend._

——

The snowstorm was over. Piles upon piles upon piles of white fluff flooded the entire town, covering pathways and blocking monster’s doors. All was deathly quiet. No more whistling winds or shuttering windows; just the calm, serene aftermath of a terrible tempest. 

Almost immediately the townsfolk began clearing away the troublesome snow. Shovels flung to high heaven while children flung it at each other’s faces, and the laughter of mischievous Monster Kid echoed in peoples’ ears. 

The blizzard spared no one from its wrath. The font brothers had their work cut out for them as well. They shoveled just as hard (or doubly so, considering Papyrus’s work ethic) as anyone else, and soon had a semi-clear path laid out. 

Grillby had little to no trouble uncovering his restaurant. All he had to do was walk outside and the snow around him began to melt like a popsicle in 110 degree weather. 

“ **Well** ,” Sans said, chuckling, “ **we could’ve used him**.” 

“I HIGHLY DOUBT THAT,”  Papyrus remarked, “HE’S STILL PISSED AT YOU FOR NOT PAYING YOUR TAB.” 

“ **I’m _gonna_ pay it...eventually**.” 

Frisk opened the front door just a smidge, peeking their head out curiously. They were once again adorning their usual garb, now clean and patched, thanks to the taller skeleton. He was surprisingly adept at sewing. 

“ **Some help you were** ,” Sans said teasingly, turning to face them and leaning down, “ **hiding inside instead of doing back breaking work out here**.” 

Papyrus smacked his brother upside the head, scowling. 

“YOU HARDLY DID ANYTHING, BONEHEAD!” He yelled. 

“ **That’s because you did most of it before I could even pick up my shovel**.” Sans quipped.

Frisk giggled, hiding their mouth behind their gloved hand. They fully exited from the house and shut the door behind them, peering eyes watching for any sign of danger around. 

No monsters other than the two brothers paid any attention to them. While they had made peace with quite a few of the residents, some still weren’t quite... _fond_ of them. Just in case one made an appearance, they ran up to Sans and grabbed his coat, holding the fabric in a death-like grip. 

“ **Jesus** ,” the skeleton almost buckled as they rammed into him, and he chuckled deeply, smiling down at them, “ **almost killed me. Just when I thought you couldn’t get any clingier. What’s up? Your shadow scare ya or something?** ” 

“I’m not a baby...” Frisk grumbled, looking down at their boots to hide the embarrassment on their face. A boney hand reached over and combed through their messy hair. 

“ **Coulda fooled me**.” Sans grinned mischievously, his sharp golden tooth glinting in the light. The child frowned, seemingly “ _ignoring_ ” him. Their expression gave it away that they were, in fact, not. 

From across the way, Grillby’s blue flames flared and his eyes squinted in their direction, catching their gaze. Frisk gulped, holding Sans’s jacket all the more tighter. 

“DON’T WORRY, HUMAN,” Papyrus reassured, “HE DOES THAT TO EVERYONE.” 

The taller skeleton tried leaning down to their level, but still ended up looking like a skyscraper to them; he awkwardly patted them on the head, smiling. His comfort seemed much better than Sans’s teasing, so they made an ‘up’ motion with their arms until he hoisted them up onto his shoulders. 

“HA, I WIN!” He exclaimed, pointing a finger to the ceiling, “I THINK THEY LIKE ME BETTER THAN YOU, ‘ _LITTLE_ ’ BROTHER.” 

Sans put a hand to his chest, mockingly offended by the turn of events. 

“ **How _could_ you?**” He gasped, pretending to feel faint, “ **after all we’ve been through?** ” 

Frisk shrugged and burst into a fit of giggles, resting their chin on Papyrus’s skull and wrapping their arms around his forehead. They playfully stuck their tongue out at him, and he grinned. 

He loved making them laugh. When they did, it felt like all the world’s problems disappeared into thin air. If someone had told him a couple months ago he’d soon be doting on a young human again, he probably would’ve dusted them.

But now here he was, a strong sense of déjà vu washing over him. He found a lot of the same qualities in Frisk that he did in...her. The same bright smile and red cheeks, enough kindness to spread to the far corners of the universe, and a gentle, soft hand that grasped at his fingers looking for consolation. 

It filled him with a sense of purpose to care for them.

Just like before.

——

In the middle of the night, Frisk awoke from the depths of a dream. Covered in a sheen of sweat, chest heaving up and down, hands shaking; yet the memories of the nightmare quickly started dissipating before they could grab them, and they were left wondering what they had seen in their mind in the first place. 

No doubt, they were curious, but they thought it better not to dwell. They had forgotten for a reason. They gulped down a rising lump in their throat, violently shucking the now suffocating blankets off of their body.

Then they felt the couch hugging them; they leapt off of it. Then they became aware of the clothes on their skin, the hair in their eyes, the carpet tickling their feet, the saline dripping down their chin, the overwhelming, disgusting, putrid _touch_ of everything around them. 

**_Don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’ttouchme—_ **

A hand landed on their shoulder. 

“DON’T _FUCKING_ TOUCH ME!” They screamed at the top of their lungs, flinching away like they were burned. Frisk sobbed, and tears fell from them in waves, and it was another touch on them and it made them _furious_. They viciously tore their shirt off with a frustrated growl, ripped off their pants and socks and underwear and flailed their arms to get rid of the sweat, rubbed their eyes sore, began tearing at their hair. 

“ **Hey** ,” a voice came, as soft and as calm as a quiet sunrise, “ **can you hear me, kiddo?** ” 

“ _No_ ,” they spat, pulling and pulling fist-fulls of brown locks, head hanging to stare at the floor, “no, go away. Don’t _touch_ me.” 

“ **I’m not touching you** ,” he replied, “ **I’m not going to touch you. No one is touching you**.” 

“Yes they _are_ ,” the child wept, collapsing to the ground, “they _are. Everywhere. Everything._ I tell them to stop but they _don’t_. They don’t listen. I can’t stop them. Always _touching_...” 

They dissolved into discouraged bawling, hands finally falling from their path of destruction and posture melting in defeat. They gave up, just like last time. So pathetic, always too weak. They let it happen. 

“ **Frisk** ,” Sans said, sitting across from them, “ **can you look at me, please?** ” 

They sniffled, neck craning to face towards the skeleton. He gave them a sad smile. 

“ **Thanks. Now I want you to listen to me. Can you do that?** ” 

They were inclined to refuse, and go back to their misery. But with enough determination, they nodded minutely, looking right into his eye sockets, white pinpricks of light hypnotizing them. 

“ **I’m sorry for touching you. If I could, I’d take all the touch in the world right now and throw it all in the garbage. Unfortunately, I can’t. I’m sorry for that, too. All I can do right now is offer my company, and ask that you take a deep breath. Can you do that?** ” 

Inhaling through the nose, oxygen slowly filled their lungs. They felt the rhythmic movement of their chest, and the air leave through their mouth. Their eyes focused, wandering to stare at the white fluff of Sans’s coat hoodie. 

They loved the feeling of it. Longing to card their fingers through it, they crawled over to him and reached out. The skeleton leaned over for them to be able to touch it, and they grasped it in their tiny fists. 

“ _Good_ touch.” They declared softly. 

“Good touch,” Sans agreed. Listlessly, they rubbed their cheek against the comfortable material, closing their eyes. The house held its breath in that moment; not a sound could be heard. The world was mute. 

The child’s body slowly went limp in his arms. 

Passed out from exhaustion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this chapter was brought to you by: my anxiety-ridden brain :)

**Author's Note:**

> I have not been in the Undertale fandom for a loooooooooong time. I just wrote this as a comfort fic for myself, and I remember liking some of my own thoughts on the Underfell universe. 
> 
> Also, this is supposed to be open-ended. You get to use your imagination as to what happens next. This is a one-shot, and I will not be writing more!


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